


See the World With New Eyes

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 08:03:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14828513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Alternate POV collection for 2018; more information on individual chapters.





	See the World With New Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how many of these I'll do this year, but hopefully it's more than two and I won't just feel like this collection is a sad waste. Onward!
> 
> Until I add a second chapter it's not displaying the chapter title, so it's Bellamy POV of [We Won't Have to Give Up a Thing (We'll Stay Who We Are)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13404936)!

When Bellamy finds the adoption papers, it takes him a little while to actually put together what he's looking at. They're in a plain, unassuming manila folder, labeled simply _Madison, WI_. It makes him frown, on first glance--he doesn't remember his mother ever interacting with any part of the state of Wisconsin--and he opens it up with idle curiosity, flipping through with mounting confusion until he sees the actual adoption contract, starkly official in black and white.

A niece he never even knew about. A niece his mother and his sister _hid from him_. 

For a long moment, he just breathes, deep, even breaths, calming himself down. It's not his business, not really. His sister got pregnant, which had nothing to do with him. She told his mother and not him, but as soon as he checks the date, he can see why--he would have been in Italy, and even if she had told him, he wouldn't have been much good. 

He might have come home to help, but Octavia wouldn't have wanted that either. He wouldn't have been welcome.

For the next two days, he tries his best to forget about the file. It's been more than a decade, and Octavia's never brought it up, in all those years. The polite thing would be to continue pretending he doesn't know about it at all, to never think about it again. The _right_ thing to do, probably. He doesn't have any business looking into it.

But he can't help it; it's like a loose tooth in his brain. He gets the file back out and googles the two names on the adoption form, telling himself that's as far as it will go. They're fairly unique, so when he hits the obituaries--first the mother, and then the father, a few months later, mentions of being survived by an adopted daughter in both--he's sure they're the right people. Or they were.

And the dates are only a few years after the baby was born. She would have been four years old; he knows enough about foster care to realize it's probably not a happy ending for her. At that age, she was probably already too old for most people to want her.

Madison is only thirteen now, so he follows her in fits and starts, articles from school newspapers and yearbooks, no social media presence of her own. He realizes, heart pounding, that she's actually _here_ , that she never moved that far away, and he barely sleeps that night, trying to figure out what he's going to do. His first two periods the next day, he scraps his lesson plans and gives the students free activity time to work on reading and essays, and during his free period, he calls social services.

He explains to three different people who he is and why he's calling before he's patched through to a woman who identifies herself as Madi's social worker.

 _Madi_ , he thinks. His niece goes by Madi.

"I know this is weird," he tells her. "My mother helped with the adoption, she passed away recently. I only just found out Madi existed. I googled the family that adopted her, found out what happened--" He exhales. "It looked like she was still in the system."

"She is, yes. She's currently in a foster placement."

He makes a face; that doesn't mean much. Or, it doesn't have to. There are great foster homes and great foster parents, but there are just as many shitty ones. And there are also people who just aren't prepared to deal with thirteen-year-old kids. It's like getting a pet; you think you know what you're getting into, and then it shits on the rug and you take it back.

He doesn't understand how anyone can do that to animals, let alone people, but apparently they can. 

"Would it be possible for me to meet her?" he finds himself asking.

"Madi?"

"And her foster parents, yeah."

"Just a foster mother at the moment. I would need to meet with you first. We'll also need to verify your identity. Could you stop by in the next few days with any relevant paperwork?"

He tries to figure out what he has to connect himself to the adoption papers. He didn't sign them, but his birth certificate is somewhere in his apartment. He could probably prove he's Aurora Blake's son, and that should be enough, right? He doesn't even know.

Maybe he could have Octavia fax him something. He'll have to call her too.

"Tomorrow?" he offers. "So I can get my stuff together."

"Tomorrow is fine. What time works for you?"

They agree to meet after school the next day, but he doesn't have enough time left in his free period to call his sister. It's just as well; he doesn't know what he's going to say to her, exactly. _Hey, I found out about the baby you had and now I'm trying to meet her_ isn't exactly the kind of thing O would be thrilled about. But he didn't set out to find Madi; he was just curious.

She's not going to buy that one either. Even if it's technically true.

He finishes off at school at four, ten in Germany, but Octavia is usually still awake around now. He's called her this late before, and it is something of an emergency.

Her phone rings twice before she picks up. "Hey, Bell. Everything okay?"

"Yes and no."

"Wow, ominous."

"Look, I'm just going to be honest here: I was looking through Mom's stuff and I found out about your daughter."

The pause stretches for so long he's worried she hung up on him, but finally she just says, "And?"

"And she's still local and in foster care, so I'm going to make sure she's doing okay."

Another endless pause. "Foster care?"

"I wasn't going to do anything, just--check in. But when I googled her adoptive parents, it turned out they were both dead."

She sucks in a breath, an audible wince. "When?"

"Almost ten years ago."

"Fuck. So she's--"

"Still local. Placed with a foster mother right now. I talked to her social worker." He wets his lips. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"You didn't tell me about this for a reason, and I'm--if you don't want me to follow up on this, I won't. I wasn't really thinking, I just--"

"It's okay. I just--I thought she was taken care of. She had a family, she was good. She was supposed to be good."

"She could still be good. Foster care is really mixed. But, uh--if it's just a temporary placement, or she's not happy, I might offer to take her."

Something in his chest loosens when she snorts. "Of course you will."

"It's just a few years, I can give her something stable if she needs it. Not a big deal."

"Taking a kid for five years is a huge deal and you know it." She doesn't give him a chance to respond, which is just as well, given he has no valid counterpoints. "I am sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to feel like you had to come home, and then--the first few months, I thought you'd be pissed I didn't tell you sooner, and then the longer I didn't do it--"

"Hey, it's okay." The distress in her voice is shocking. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. I'm just amazed no one else ever told me. You guys must have kept it pretty quiet."

"Mom home-schooled me for spring semester, once I started showing," she says. "It wasn't awesome, but we got through it. Most of my friends knew, but it's not like you talked to them, and even if you did, they wouldn't tell. I know you must have heard rumors about me, but--"

But assholes calling his mother or his sister a slut became a recurring theme in his life as soon as assholes found out what a slut was. He wouldn't have given it a second thought. "Yeah," he says. "She wouldn't let you get the abortion?"

"Nope. I tried to go before I told her, but I needed someone over eighteen to sign off at the only place I could find, so--"

"I get it." He clears his throat. "If you want me to drop this, just tell me."

"As long as you don't want me involved, you can do whatever you want. I'd like if she was okay," she adds, tone going a little wistful. "I wanted her to be. But I can't be her mother."

"I know. Do you want me to keep you posted?"

"Yeah," she says. "That would be good."

*

Clarke Griffin isn't what he was expecting, which makes him feel a little bad. He and Octavia were in foster care for a few months when he was ten and she was five, before he'd learned he needed to keep his mouth shut to authority figures, and it had been--fine. The family that took care of them was very religious, which hadn't been a great fit for two kids raised with no understanding of spirituality at all. They weren't bad people, but they had wanted Bellamy and Octavia to be two completely different people. 

He thinks of foster parents as largely well-meaning but very often a little bit clueless older couples, which is his own prejudice, and he's surprised when Luna introduces the pretty white woman with the streaks of pink in her blonde hair as Madi's foster mother. She's probably not that much older than Octavia herself, and definitely not within the demographic he'd expect to be taking in teenagers.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Griffin," he says, trying out a smile. 

"Clarke is fine." 

Her voice isn't quite what he expected either, lower, not as bright or cheerful as he thought it would be. Apparently, he had more assumptions about this whole thing than even he knew.

"Clarke. Thanks for meeting with me."

"Yeah, of course."

Luna supplies all the cheerfulness they need and then some. "Why don't we go into my office and talk? Get some privacy."

It hadn't felt awkward up until this point, but between Clarke's slightly brittle smile and Luna's over-enthusiasm, Bellamy can't help feeling like he stumbled somewhere he doesn't belong.

Which, so far, is the perpetual Madison Vie mood, honestly.

He offers Clarke her choice of chairs and takes the one she doesn't, and the meeting, like everything else today, doesn't really go as he expected. Clarke is calm and cool, for the most part, and he doesn't understand the slightly hostile vibe he's feeling until Luna says, "We'll put a halt on the adoption process while we figure this out."

"Adoption process?" he asks Clarke, taken off-guard. "You're adopting her?"

"I _was_."

It's not impossible, of course, just unexpected, like everything else. He knows exactly why he's willing to take Madi; she's his family, and she got a raw deal. If he can help, he wants to. But Clarke apparently decided to just--help a kid in a bad spot. It's not impossible, but he hadn't thought of doing it himself, and he wonders why she did.

Not that anyone needs a tragic backstory to help; some people just like helping. But it doesn't quite add up.

"So I think our first step is setting up a time when Bellamy can meet Madi," says Luna, smooth, and Bellamy shakes his attention away from Clarke.

It's not that simple to shake the nagging doubt from his mind, though. His niece feels like a mystery he's always two steps behind on solving, Clarke the next in a long line of clues he can't quite slot together into a cohesive whole. 

Which is why, when she hustles out of the social services office, he jogs to catch her.

"Hey, Clarke, wait a second, okay?"

She does, but she doesn't look happy about it. "Yes?"

He wonders if he's ever going to get to a point with this whole thing where it feels like his brain has caught up with his mouth. 

"When do you need to be home?"

"Five-thirty?" she says, as if she's the one asking him.

He runs his hand through his hair. "Can I buy you a coffee? Just--I feel like it would help if we talked for a few minutes without all this bureaucracy. Sit down and just be two people who care about Madi?"

"You don't even know her."

It's probably supposed to sting, but he's way ahead of Clarke on that one. "I can still care about her. She's my niece."

For a long moment, she's tense, apparently deciding whether or not to push the issue.

But she doesn't. There's a coffee shop across the street and she leads him over, even lets him pay for her latte without argument. 

And then she just sips it, watching him with inscrutable eyes until he says, "I didn't know you wanted to adopt her. I found out she was in foster care, and I know it's hard for kids her age in the system. Not a lot of people want to adopt thirteen year olds. I figured she was going to be waiting to age out."

Clarke taps one finger against her mug. "How did you find out about her? Did your sister just bring it up out of the blue?"

"No, nothing like that. Our mom passed away a few months ago, I've been going through all her old papers. Octavia was underage, so my mom signed off on it. She still had the records. Honestly," he adds, largely because it's been less than a week and he hasn't really talked to _anyone_ about this, except for O, and that's complicated in a different way, "I was so pissed she was dead, I wanted to fucking yell at her for not telling me in the first place."

Clarke is the kind of person who finds yelling at dead parents funny, apparently. He can relate. "That's why you were pissed she was dead?"

It's the right kind of icebreaker. He explains the situation, how he was out of the country, how he would have wanted to be involved. He doesn't want to steal Madi away from a happy home, if she has one. All he wants to do is make sure she does have one. If Clarke wants the same thing, they shouldn't have any problems.

And when he says as much, she agrees. Whether it's true or not, she's definitely getting less hostile.

Then Madi makes dinner plans, and they go to his favorite Mexican place, get a couple margaritas, and he figures he's probably allowed to ask about her.

"How old are you?"

She blinks. "Sorry?"

"Just curious. I was expecting--I don't know. Some middle-aged empty nester. When Luna told me she had a foster mom."

"I guess I would have been expecting that too. I'm thirty-one."

"How did you get involved in fostering?"

She shrugs. "I turned thirty and had a third-life crisis."

"Is that a thing? I must have missed mine."

"If you were studying abroad when Madi was born, you're--" She seems to be doing the math. "Thirty-three? Thirty-four?"

"Thirty-four in a month."

"I think it might be different for guys. Not that you don't have your own weird pressures, but--not as many people asking when you're going to have kids and why you don't have kids yet and how having kids will affect your career."

"Yeah, it's different. I usually get--" He waves vaguely. "You're such a good teacher, do you have kids of your own, you'd be a great dad. But they don't think there's something wrong with me because I don't have kids, just that it's kind of a shame."

"Yeah."

"So, thirty hit and you decided to try fostering?"

"Pretty much. I still don't know if I want biological kids, but I looked into fostering and I thought, you know, why not? And it's been good. I wasn't planning to adopt either, but Madi needs a long-term placement, and I can do that for her." She clears her throat. "I want to do that."

It is, in theory, all good news. Clarke could be bullshitting him, but he doesn't get the sense that she is that night, and when he meets Madi for the first time on Saturday, she seems just as fond of Clarke as Clarke is of her.

They're fine. They don't need him. It seems pretty clear.

"But you still want to be involved," Octavia says, her tone difficult to read. It's easier when he can see her expression; Octavia's face tends to be an open book.

It's been about a month and a half now, and he still calls his sister after every visit with Madi. It's not really that he thinks she's going to be upset, and much more that it's an excuse. Octavia likes to hear how it's going, which means she doesn't yell at him for calling too much. He's talked to her more since he found out Madi existed than he has in the last six months put together.

And, if he's honest, he needs someone to talk to too. He needs to hear that he's not doing anything wrong, even if he's basically a vestigial relative right now. He's not hurting anything, but they could remove him from the equation and nothing would change.

"I don't want to adopt her," he tells O, truthfully. "She's doing great with Clarke. But--most people have more than one person in their family. It's not like having an uncle is weird."

"Having an uncle isn't weird, but seeing your uncle all the time might be. Uncle Mal just sent us twenty bucks on our birthdays until we turned eighteen and then stopped talking to us."

"I'm pretty sure that was just him, not every uncle in the world."

"Maybe. Tell me about the foster mom."

"What about her?"

"Is she cute?"

He groans. "Please don't make this into a romance thing, O."

"Is it not one?"

"She's cool, I like her, but I'm not using Madi to try to get close to her. I'm not that guy."

"I didn't mean it like that. Just--this is starting to sound a lot like playing house, Bell. And that's fine, if everyone's playing with you, but--"

"It's been a month."

"I know you. You loved Madi as soon as you found out she existed. And that's not bad!" she adds. "But it kind of sounds like--there's this kid, and you love her, and she's got a foster mom, and you're spending as much time with them as they'll let you. I'm not saying you have a thing for her, but--you do seem to like her a lot."

Whenever his sister asks him about his love life, his impulse is to push back, to deny it. It's some lingering, childish belief that his relationships are none of her business, that she'll just embarrass him in front of his crush if she ever knows.

But she sounds worried, and they're both adults now. The least he can do it act like it.

"I do. And I get why you're worried. She's definitely--she's great. And I like her. She's smart and interesting and, yeah, gorgeous."

"Is this building to a but?"

"Not exactly."

" _Bell_."

"But I'm not expecting anything to happen and nothing will, so it's fine."

"That's not what fine means."

"Yeah? What does it mean?"

She huffs. "I don't know. Either not getting a crush or dealing with the crush."

"It's not a crush and I am dealing with it. I'm attracted to her, it can't go anywhere. So it's not a problem."

"If you say so," says O, unconvinced, and he sighs.

"That's the plan, anyway. I'll keep you posted."

"Yeah, can't wait."

*

As Octavia predicted, it doesn't exactly go according to plan, but he doesn't think it goes _badly_ , either. Admittedly, he falls for Clarke hard, harder than he thinks he's ever fallen, but he's pretty sure it's independent of Madi. If he'd met Clarke in any of a thousand other ways, he'd be just as into her. It's a little awkward, but he's gotten awkward crushes before. And it doesn't seem outside of the realm of possibility, that she might return his feelings. 

Right up until she starts dating other people, that is.

He finds out when she texts him one Saturday: _You want to watch Madi tonight?_

It's not the first time she's asked him about babysitting--since they established he had no interest in actually _taking_ Madi, Clarke's been a lot more comfortable using him as a resource--but she usually gives a little more of an explanation. 

**Me** : Sure  
Big plans?

 **Clarke** : Raven's taking me to a bar

 **Me** : She needs a wingman?

 **Clarke** : No, I do  
Getting back out there

 **Me** : Any particular reason?

 **Clarke** : It's been a while  
I haven't really tried dating while I've got Madi  
I want to see what it's like  
It's okay if you can't take her  
I'm honestly kind of dreading it

 **Me** : So why do it?

 **Clarke** : Because I don't want to be afraid of dating  
So I should just try it, right?

 **Me** : Whatever you say  
I'm terrified of dating and I like it that way  
But I can take Madi  
Should I come over there?

 **Clarke** : She wants to come see your cats  
If you don't mind  
I'll pick her up on my way home

 **Me** : Okay  
If you want to stay out all night, just let me know  
We can figure something out

 **Clarke** : Let's not get carried away  
If I make it more than an hour, I'll be proud of myself

 **Me** : Me too  
Let me know when you're on your way

She brings dinner with her, because Clarke has this belief that if she asks him to spend time with her, it's her job to provide food, like she doesn't realize that spending time with her isn't basically his favorite thing in the world.

Hopefully she doesn't. He has to believe that if she did, she wouldn't be asking him to babysit while she goes out to pick people up. Clarke's really not like that. More likely, he's never crossed her mind as a romantic prospect, and he can't exactly blame her. After all, he's her daughter's uncle, not a guy she met at a bar. There's no reason for her to think of him as anything but a friend.

He and Madi play some video games and watch some TV with the cats, and when she passes out on the couch, he carries her to his bed to wait until Clarke gets back. For a moment, he can't help just watching the rise and fall of her breath, the curl of her fingers on the pillow. Sometimes, he still can't believe that she exists, this small, stubborn person who reminds him so much of his sister despite the fact that they've never even met. He doesn't think it's genetics, really, but it feels lucky.

It's so easy to love her.

Clarke texts that she's on her way to him at 11:30, which gives him a good ten minutes to psych himself up for that conversation. He can be supportive and ask about her life. That's what friends do.

And he thinks it probably helps; his voice comes out totally even when he asks, "How'd it go?" 

"Fine, I guess? I got a guy's number, but I don't think I'll call him."

"Why not?"

She sighs. "He was cute, but--there wasn't anything there, you know? No spark. But it was good to try."

"Cool. Going to do it more?"

"Probably." She flashes him a grin. "Don't worry, I won't make you watch Madi every time."

"It's fine," he says, and even sounds like he means it "Whatever you need."

*

The dating thing becomes this weird source of background tension in his life, omnipresent but very rarely a focus. She'll mention from time to time that she's at a bar or on a date, but it's irregular enough that he can fool himself into thinking she's stopped, and then she'll bring it up again and he'll spend a few days stressing that she actually met someone she liked and he'll have to deal with that.

When it's been a full month since he heard anything about her seeing anyone, he finally asks, "How's the dating going?"

"I think I'm done."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it--wasn't what I wanted."

"I'm sorry."

She shakes her head, smiling a little. "Don't be. I can still date, so that's good to know. And I might still--I don't have to go to bars to find someone, you know? I just feel bad for leaving you and Madi alone the whole time."

"I don't mind being alone with Madi."

"I know, but--I feel like I should be there too."

"We like having you around, yeah." He clears his throat. "You're going to find someone great, Clarke. There's no way you won't."

She bumps his shoulder. "What about you? Do you miss dating?"

"I miss having someone," he says. "But dating isn't for me either."

A few months ago, it would have felt like the perfect opportunity to make a move, but he can't quite figure out how to say it now. He really had thought that she might like him, but he can't figure out how to get that certainty back. Going to bars to find dates isn't incompatible with being interested in him, but it's not great either.

So, in a way, Octavia deciding she's coming to visit is great. Because while he may be worrying about it non-stop, that at least means there's not enough room in his brain for him to worry about anything else. And it feels important, to have her come. He hadn't realized until the prospect of O meeting Madi was actually on the table how much he wanted it to happen. Until they've met each other, he's always going to be waiting for it, wondering with some idle part of his mind whether or not his sister and his niece would actually get along. If it would be too weird for one or both of them, and he'd somehow have to choose.

It's only been a few months of knowing Madi, and it's already a terrifying prospect.

It's bad enough before Octavia shows up, but once she does, and she and Madi are actually alone? He's not sure anything has ever been more stressful than this in his entire life. This is the peak.

"We should have bought movie tickets or something," he tells Clarke.

She seems kind of annoyingly chill so far, but he knows her well enough to realize there's plenty of nervousness lurking under the surface, hidden even from him. Like an iceberg of anxiety.

"We could just watch a movie here," she points out.

"But then we're not required to turn off our phones." He's not sure what text he's expecting, but every time he remembers his phone exists, he feels a deep, existential dread. There are too many things that could go wrong in this scenario. Any text he receives could be disastrous. 

"I'm not turning off my phone," she says, sounding horrified enough by the prospect that he feels better about his own nerves. "Madi might need to get out."

He sighs. "I know it's going to be fine. O's good, Madi's good, but--"

"It's your sister and your niece and it's stressful."

"Something like that," he says, because that's part of it, sure, but he doesn't know how to explain to her that he's worried this will cause some schism, that he'll lose half of his family either way. He's got such a nice little life right now, almost perfect, and if this goes wrong--

"We could make out," Clarke suggests, casual enough it's almost deadpan, and he nearly falls off the couch.

"What?"

She shifts a little. "Your sister asked me my intentions," she admits, and he's so glad she didn't lead with that, because he probably would have died of shame and stress before finding out that she apparently wants to make out with him. "And I felt weird telling _her_ , but--come on, Bellamy," she says, with this nervous smile. "You must know that I--how I--"

It's not the _most_ ridiculous thing he's ever heard, but it's definitely up there. "Not a clue. Really?"

Her mouth pulls up at one side. "You're kind of great."

Part of him wants to ask for about a thousand more words on what's going on, but he actually knows what's going on. Clarke is interested in him, and she's telling him, and she apparently wants to make out while they wait for Octavia and Madi to be done with their meeting. She could give him an essay on how much she likes him, and he'll probably want one later, but they do have better things to do right now. 

So he asks the only question that actually matters. "What about Madi?" 

Clarke smiles. "She gave me her blessing months ago."

"Oh." He really is going to want some more answers later. But for now, he clears his throat. "So I can just--"

She kisses him, like even this brief conversation was too much, and if they don't start making out soon, she'll actually die. She kisses him like she's been wanting to do it for as long as he has, like she can't possibly wait another second, and he can't say he minds in the least that they're not talking more.

They seem to be on exactly the same page.

*

"So, this is good, right?"

Bellamy's pretty sure he knows what his sister means, but he's nothing if not dedicated to playing dumb for her. "Yeah, I really like this restaurant."

She rolls her eyes. They're grabbing lunch before he drops her off at the airport, and he's going to miss her, but, if he's honest, he thinks they do better with an ocean between them. They don't need to see each other all the time; what they've got right now is really working for them.

"Come on."

"It's good," he agrees. "Everything. I don't know how long it's going to last, but--"

"But you don't actually have anything concrete to worry about, you're just paranoid."

"It's a new relationship, you never know how those are going to go. And there's a kind involved, that's never happened before. But so far, so good, yeah." He cocks his head at her. "How about you? How are you doing with everything?"

"It's kind of nice?" she says, sounding younger than she has in a long time. "Not, like--I really don't want to be a mom, I never want to be any more involved in her life than this. But I'm good with knowing where she is and that she's happy. That you're taking care of her."

"So it's not weird that your brother might be adopting your estranged daughter."

She grins. "Oh, no, that's totally weird. You're a giant weirdo. But it's the nice kind of weird. One big happy family, right?"

As impossible as it feels, he can't think of a better way to put it. So he just raises his glass of iced tea, lets Octavia clink her water against it.

"Yeah," he says. "That's us."


End file.
